


Introspection

by madamguillotine



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent, vent art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamguillotine/pseuds/madamguillotine
Summary: In their underwear Jehan does some self reflection. It doesn't go well. But Cosette is beginning to be concerned.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Prouvaire
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Introspection

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'll probably delete this at some point. I wrote this last night when I was in a really bad place but I just need someone to read this. Maybe commiserate, but probably not. Ignore this, probably. But I think the tags say it all!

Jehan drummed their fingers on their desk waiting for inspiration to strike, but as normal for this mood, no muse was forthcoming. They shut their notebook and stared at the screen while Cosette was going on about Power Rangers, the thing she was currently obsessed with at the moment. I was not a passion Jehan shared with her, so they waited until she had finished to acknowledge she had said something.

They thought about Cosette and a declaration that she didn’t care how much she weighed. They wished for that level of confidence. In any form. They had never considered themselves attractive, by any means, even if they stretched their imagination thin. They sat at their laptop in their underwear and desk again to see was Cosette had said. They sent her a GIF and moved on to their self-examination they do before they get dressed.

Jehan started at their feet, due to their technically misshapen feet they could only wear one pair of shoes that they were growing to hate. They didn’t like them when they were purchased and time had not sweetened them. They looked at the still painful and discoloured toe from when they took a tumble down the basement stairs.

Legs also didn’t offer much comfort. They had thick thighs with scars of various words they had carved in them years before. Dark words from dark thoughts on dark nights that they’ll carry with them for the rest of their life. When they were figuring out their pronouns, they’d carved the word “FEMALE” into their upper thigh, because with their face and body there was no escape from birthnames, dead names and misgendering. They pressed a finger into the flesh of their thigh and watched it bounce and jiggle back into place. They took note of how they pooled in the computer chair. It was not pleasant.

Jehan observed the swell of the stomach that flowed over the top of their underwear and puddled on their thighs. No cuts there. They didn’t need them. Their stomach was self- scarring. There was every little bit of skin that wasn’t covered in stretch marks; including some that were pink and fresh and didn’t fill them with confidence. They stood up and went to the mirror and sucked in as much as they could, but couldn’t keep up the charade. They returned themselves to their normal dimensions and sighed, thinking of that famous scene from Akira.

Jehan cupped their hands over their large breasts in their bra, which, like the rest of them, bubbled up over the top and sides and probably their back, if they had a second mirror. Luckily, for their transparently hair-width shreds of self-esteem, they didn’t have one. They actually liked one aspect of the alien, fleshy baubles protruding from them: they made their bulbous stomach look smaller. They hated all the other points of them. The bras that actually fit into the double D’s and they could actually afford were thoroughly unattractive and didn’t fit anyways.

“Thicc” was supposed to be “in”, but it was only attractive to those individuals who’d already liked that kind of thing. But it left plus-sized Jehan dressing like someone’s maiden aunt, but not in a fun ugly-sweater-for-a-fun party sort of way. They wouldn’t know what to do with a party even if they’d been invited to one since they were a teen.   
But that was before doctors, and pills and injections. Meds that made them like this that were supposed to somehow make their life better, but were now barely working. It made them fear for the next step up, as they’d already maxed out all the meds they were on.

Jehan looked at their computer again, as they pulled on a floral dress and plopped in their chair. 

“Jehan, are you okay? You went totally ghost!”

Jehan read their message with a tear stained smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”


End file.
